Highways I Call Home
by Givin' Em Hell x
Summary: Sequel to CILNTY. Things aren't going as well as the guys might have hoped ... Rated for later chapters.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Over the years since the Revenge tour, I often found myself wondering what it would be like if you wanted me back.

My various dreams and fantasies encompassed a wide range of scenes fit for Hollywood: beating on your chest defiantly as you held me in a parking lot, forcing my way past you as you tried to corner me in the bunk room, ditching you on-stage as you finally confessed your love for me to the world, entirely too late...

I'd managed to think up every possible scenario and every rational response to each. It didn't take long after you left me to realize that the one mistake I made time and time again was that I _allowed_ you to do it. _I _allowed you to control me with that sneaky, half-conscious night in Hawaii. _I_ allowed you to drop me at my worst, only to have me at the ready as soon as you were at yours. And _I _allowed you to dazzle me with fairytales about living together in a place that would accept us for who we were. So every time I thought about you, I created a new way of ensuring you'd never control me again. There was a rational response for everything you could say or do, and those responses often involved walking away. _I_ had the power to refuse you; life on the road with you was tolerable as long as I had that.

But my visions all had one trending theme that didn't apply to real life: in each and every one, I had complete and indestructible resolve. I hadn't anticipated the way every carefully-constructed comeback and self-righteous speech would crumble under those six syllables.

Yeah, the real picture was much different.

* * *

><p>"Frankie, I want you back."<p>

You were never going to believe me. How could you? I'd dropped you more times than you should have taken me back. And after everything that had changed since the last time we shared a kiss, I knew just how impossible a future with me would seem to you.

Yet I still said those five words because they were how I felt. And maybe it was the new album getting under my skin, or that scary sense of finality that came with Bob's leaving the band, but something in me wouldn't allow me to hold them back. It was what I had in mind when I wrote those lyrics: It's time to do it now and do it loud.

But you didn't make noise. You were always a feisty one, and despite the uncharacteristic timidity I seemed to instill in you, I expected a fight. Things were dangerous now; we were married, we had children. Everyone knew those things weren't taken lightly by you, and you weren't the type to break a vow. Which was why it shocked me to see you deteriorate so quickly the moment I told you how I really felt.

I suppose you didn't expect it, though. If there was any time you expected to be safe from me, it was after you fathered those two beautiful baby girls. I'm sure—I _hope_—you didn't think I would stoop so low.

Because I sure as hell didn't.


	2. Chapter 1

Here's the first chapter! The next ones will be considerably longer, I promise. This is almost like a part two to the prologue. :)

Please let me know what you think!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

The packing was finally finished.

When Gerard surprised with his plans to move to Massachusetts, neither of us could find a break in our ecstasy long enough to consider the technicalities. He had much of it planned ahead of time-residency, choice of town, even some possible houses-but what we hadn't considered was how we were to construct our happily-ever-after while on tour.

During the first stages of the process, which were mostly paperwork, it wasn't difficult to put together the new album. If anything, it came together effortlessly; the promise of a new life together made some of the more inspiring tracks come to life, while the struggles we dealt with manifested themselves into tracks like "Mama" and "Sleep." Even the patient was taken directly from our experience in Hawaii, his dark-rimmed eyes derived from an inside joke of ours that Gerard started about my black eyes from the fight by the Jacuzzi.

He was only trying to make light of the situation during one of our arguments, but the image stuck and became something powerful. It always amazed me how his ideas seemed to stand upright and take on a life of their own.

We fought a lot. We were crazy about each other, but to say that we fought as if we were already married would be an understatement. Despite the relative ease of our relationship with each other and the band after everything settled down, I still had anxieties about Gerard leaving me.

A lot of them.

As a result, it took us a considerable amount of time to find a place to call home, and we often clawed mercilessly at each other under the pressure. In our excitement at the prospect of our future, we had both put our homes on the market and, as expected, they both sold immediately. We needed a place to stay after the tour was over.

So, when we finally pushed out the Black Parade album and went on tour, things got complicated. We had no time to go house hunting, even when the tour stopped for a weekend in Massachusetts. The stresses of adapting to a new tour were weighing down on us, and we were already brainstorming a new album in order to keep up with our bi-yearly pattern, which proved only to thrust the band into an identity crisis due to the heavily themed natures of our albums. Throw in the stress of Gerard's new comic alongside everything else, and the tension really built.

That was when Gerard first dyed his hair.


End file.
